![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
new_kateYesterday I have experienced a strange desire to buy some pretty, feminine clothes. No idea where that came from.
Thing is, I don't need any new clothes. I don't even go anywhere ever, exept to work. And I don't even commute to work - the husband drives me there and back again. The office dress code is something between "college chick" and "taking out trash bags". When it's warm, men wander around the premises in shorts and barefoot. Other then that, there's only "special occasions" and I have my polyester pants and sequined top for that - actually, that's way overdressed for all occasions I've ever been to over here, but oh well.
So, I went to Topshop and crumbled to pieces righ there. Fuck, the new collection is so pretty. Sooooo pretty. Completely overcome, I purchased something totally insane. I didn't need a mustard yellow empire cut babydoll t-shirt with ginormous non-functional buttons on front. Let's face it, nobody needs anything like that. Ugh. I don't know, it called out to me. To balance it out, I bought a grey cardigan.
Ah, grey cardigan. The ultimate Mark of the Nerd. I love them dearly and used to buy one almost every autumn since I was 14. No, I don't have an enourmous collection of out-of-fashion grey cardigans - since I pretty much never take them off since September they naturally decompose by spring, or get overstressed and commit suicide by ink stain/burn hole. This one has rushed sleeves and pockets so it can sorta be considered pretty and feminine, I guess.
Nothing else I tried on would fit my midget frame so I went home, put on the grey cardigan and started perusing the Topshop petites range online. It went something like this:
"Dammit, absolutely nothing good is available in shortass! Nothing! Stupid, pathetic petites range! Out of everything they offer here, I really want only maybe those... eleven items... amounting to £462... "
...I hate Topshop so much. *plans a visit to Army Surplus store*
Thing is, I don't need any new clothes. I don't even go anywhere ever, exept to work. And I don't even commute to work - the husband drives me there and back again. The office dress code is something between "college chick" and "taking out trash bags". When it's warm, men wander around the premises in shorts and barefoot. Other then that, there's only "special occasions" and I have my polyester pants and sequined top for that - actually, that's way overdressed for all occasions I've ever been to over here, but oh well.
So, I went to Topshop and crumbled to pieces righ there. Fuck, the new collection is so pretty. Sooooo pretty. Completely overcome, I purchased something totally insane. I didn't need a mustard yellow empire cut babydoll t-shirt with ginormous non-functional buttons on front. Let's face it, nobody needs anything like that. Ugh. I don't know, it called out to me. To balance it out, I bought a grey cardigan.
Ah, grey cardigan. The ultimate Mark of the Nerd. I love them dearly and used to buy one almost every autumn since I was 14. No, I don't have an enourmous collection of out-of-fashion grey cardigans - since I pretty much never take them off since September they naturally decompose by spring, or get overstressed and commit suicide by ink stain/burn hole. This one has rushed sleeves and pockets so it can sorta be considered pretty and feminine, I guess.
Nothing else I tried on would fit my midget frame so I went home, put on the grey cardigan and started perusing the Topshop petites range online. It went something like this:
"Dammit, absolutely nothing good is available in shortass! Nothing! Stupid, pathetic petites range! Out of everything they offer here, I really want only maybe those... eleven items... amounting to £462... "
...I hate Topshop so much. *plans a visit to Army Surplus store*
